raising hell in the castle

May 6, 2008 at 4:43 pm · Filed under good days

Oh hi there, friends. I’m sad to say that this is probably one of the last posts, as I am leaving the castle very soon.

Today, when I came in, I really didn’t feel anything about leaving here. No happiness, sadness, relief. Nothing. It’s just a fact that I’m leaving. I doubt I have really left a lasting impression on the Bea. I came in, I slacked off, got a few things done, and now I’m gone. A mere blip on the Bea’s radar.

But maybe the Bea will remember a few shining moments or maybe even part of our last day together. If she does remember the latter, I owe it to one creature — the most enormous horse fly I’ve ever seen.

When I was shelving some books, I heard a buzzing in the stacks. It was loud. I’m not going to lie, friends, my heart started beating, I put down the book I was holding, and I covered my ears. Because this fly could fly into one of my ears. I shudder to think of it.

So, covering my ears, I indicated to the Bea that a large, agitated fly was on the loose in the castle. The Bea, fearless as always, quickly executed a plan. She obtained a small daily newspaper from our collection (circulation less than 20,000), rolled it up, and prowled the stacks, slapping the shelves and calling out to the fly. She spotted the fly, but with her vision, lost it again. This last part happened several times before the Bea decided to alter her strategy. She searched for something to prop the door open with, and while she was holding the door open and searching, the fly flew out the door! Thank goodness!

Now we just needed to secure the castle doors, lest this fly flies back in, she told me. She shut one door, and I shut the other door. Take that, fly! The Bea started talking “trash” as she secured the doors. I held a straight face, but friends, it was one of the most fun Bea moments.

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the tools of the trade

May 1, 2008 at 4:36 pm · Filed under Uncategorized

Now, friends, let me tell you…I don’t know much about books, databases, the Dewey decimal or, really, anything related to being a librarian. But, after observing the Bea, I have assembled a list of tools that I think will help you, should you ever decide to work in a library.

1. a hammer.

2. box cutter, a broken one is good enough.

3. paper, lots of paper so that you can print out forms.

4. a pair of pliers.

5. lots of old cardboard boxes. the oldest, grossest ones you can find.

6. white-out.

7. a computer equipped with Microsoft Word. Oh, and the Internet.

The other day, the Bea used almost all of these tools within a few hours. Now, if you’ve never seen an elderly woman handle a broken box cutter, let me tell you, it’s…I don’t have words. She was fearless with that thing. And the blade pops out at any time, and the Bea’s skin is so dangerously close, only an inch or two away. I can’t keep myself from openly cringing, yet I am powerless to stop the Bea from using it when she’s determined to open a stubborn box. I’ve seen her cut herself on the inner workings of both the copier machine and the color printer, but friends, nothing makes me as scared as this broken box cutter.

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I wish, I wish, I wish

April 29, 2008 at 12:42 pm · Filed under sentimental thoughts

Oh, friends. I have been tackling some work for the Bea and have not had an extra moment to write to you. It doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re important — you totally are.

It’s just that…my days here are numbered, friends, and there were a number of tasks I had been putting off the semester, and I finally had to produce some results. Soon I’ll be out in the scary world, sans the Bea, sans newspapers and mail (except for my own). I will no longer have to open Microsoft Word to make paper forms that serve no real purpose. I don’t know if I’ll ever find a reason to use a glue stick again. Gasp! I will have to think of some reason.

But really, I have learned a lot from working in this castle. I only wish I had more time to document it for you, so that I can keep track of the lessons the Bea has taught me. And I also wish I had more time to find the white binder. I wish I could contribute in some way to the binder, because I think the contents should not only be about the operation of the library but it should be about Bea’s views on how to live a good life. The Bea is very happy, friends. Though she sometimes seems stressed and sometimes spends all day on the phone, it’s all part of her ideal image of herself: a person who really matters to others.

Ok, ok. So. I will be here a few more days, and then I will be departing for the real world. I will send along my thoughts as they come.

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oh, computers.

April 22, 2008 at 4:58 pm · Filed under being a drone, clashes with technology, drinks policy

Hi there, friends. I hope you are having a better afternoon than I am. The Bea has been testy today. I think I’m getting on her nerves. When she’s crabby, the patrons pay for it in one way or another. So I tried to do what any good drone would do — I went through the library and warned people to put their drinks away. I should get paid extra, don’t you think? Yes.

There are little things that I have done to annoy the Bea, but friends, I swear, I didn’t do anything on purpose today. One of my favorite pastimes is to tell the Bea that someone was looking for her, and that this person needed information. Oh, but I forgot to ask for this person’s name. Hehe. That actually drives her nuts. She’ll exit the library and wander the halls, looking for this mystery person. She come back and ask me clues about this person’s appearance or status. Was this person a student? Or–God help us all–a professor? A person so close to her power yet so far away, lost. Friends, am I a bad person? Don’t answer that.

Today we ran out of some crucial forms, and the Bea busted out her whiteout, the copier card, and the paper cutter to reassemble a few copies of a makeshift form. Then, she turned to Microsoft Word for a little extra help. Friends, this was Word 2008. Need I say more?

I think this seemingly harmless software has created a permanent tension my relationship with the Bea. Today, I tried to help her make a table. It was a mess, friends. My table was not to her liking, and she whined through the whole process of me making it. In the end, she bit her tongue and printed it out, because, believe me, it was more than adequate for her purposes.

She left for lunch, probably thinking Good riddance to this drone. Good times.

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oh, and another thing.

April 18, 2008 at 7:49 pm · Filed under Uncategorized

I didn’t find the white binder last night. I looked, but I couldn’t find it. Shouldn’t it be glowing, or radiating heat? You don’t put one woman’s lifetime of work in just any old binder.

I did, however, eat a big piece of cake. Hmmph.

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the bea, in school?

April 18, 2008 at 7:45 pm · Filed under clashes with technology, empty library, good days

Today became amazing very quickly, friends, when I found out that the Bea taking a two-day class on a topic that requires advanced computer skills. Yes, you heard me, the Bea is being schooled. Not in her own castle, but in a location closeby.

I had heard rumors that such a class was happening. This afternoon, as I was coming into work, I went to where I thought the Bea was taking the class. The doors were closed, and the only evidence of the workshop: a table with what looked like the remains of a delicious breakfast spread. Yum, bagels and coffee….

Ok, stay on topic. So. Just when I was about to give up on seeing the Bea, the doors opened, and out of them flooded the oldest faculty members I’ve ever seen. It was like getting all most ancient people together in one place to learn the most difficult computer tasks they could possibly learn. Could I pay to watch this?

As soon as the doors opened, I charged in, hoping to get a glance of the Bea. But I guess she had gone out the other door because I missed her. Damn. So I walked back upstairs and saw her in the castle, in her element. Where she knows the most and is the best.

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do i look like i’m made of money?

April 17, 2008 at 10:18 pm · Filed under Uncategorized

Friends, I’m sorry, but I am just a bit bitter today. Patrons keep asking me for money, for printing. Do I look like I’m made of money?

I’ve heard every story.

1. My money’s in my car.

2. I’ll pay you back.

3. I only need 50 cents.

No, no, and no. Stop asking me for money.

Sigh. Now I just need to make myself feel better. Only two things will help me accomplish that goal. Finding that white binder….or enjoying a big-ass piece of cake. What’ll it be, friends?

I have a few hours here, unsupervised, and I’m going to look for that binder. Where did you put that binder, fellow drones? Tell me. Tell me what’s in it.

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the white binder. let’s whisper now.

April 16, 2008 at 4:18 pm · Filed under Uncategorized

Oh hi there, friends. I didn’t see you. I have to admit that I’ve been a bit preoccupied these last few days. One seems to run into another, and I have to remind myself what I have on my to-do list for this week and the coming weeks.

The Bea seems preoccupied as well, with several ailments and a trip planned to the doctor to address those ailments. Yesterday, as I watched a piece of pollen die slowly in her poofy hair, I was reminded of how old the Bea is and that one day she will depart for The Ultimate Library — one that might have no Internet and where the books are plentiful. For sure, all the patrons know absolutely nothing in the Ultimate Library, giving the Bea the power and importance that only a seasoned, queen librarian like herself should have.

By the end of the day, the pollen was gone from the Bea’s haystack hair. And a fellow drone shared some news with me. The Bea is assembling a binder. For when she passes, friends. I have not seen the binder yet, and I don’t know if Bea will ever trust me to help assemble it. But it will be there, friends, and it will be the key to everything sacred. I was told it was white. Shhhhhhhh. Quiet now. A little part of me wants to put a picture of the Bea on the front. Wearing wings.

The Bea left just now for her appointment, and as she was leaving, helped a student operate an automatic stapler. In the end, the stapler won, and the Bea suggested another mode of paper attachment. “It’s tired,” she said, patting the stapler gently. The fax machine is tired. The printer is tired. Everyone here is tired.

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burying the evidence

April 15, 2008 at 12:43 pm · Filed under being a drone

Hello there, dear friends. I just arrived this morning, and I have a good hour before the Bea arrives. I’m sipping my coffee, checking email, and I just ate a banana.

Eating fruit in a no-food zone is rather risky, I know. But discarding it can be trickier. When I tossed my banana peel, I could see it was the lone cowboy in an otherwise empty trash can. I have to think of how I can bury the evidence so that the Bea doesn’t see it. But what to use? The custodial staff diligently changes the trash every night. A blessing and a curse, friends. I think I’ll have to remove some paper from the recycling bin to bury this evidence. I owe you one, Earth.

I’m sensing that the Bea will be here sooner than expected. I’m pretty sure she’ll tell me that I look tired, and she’ll point out the bags under my eyes as examples. Oh Bea, how I love thee.

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can I go home yet?

April 11, 2008 at 6:53 pm · Filed under Uncategorized

I’m here, friends, and working a “double” shift to cover for another drone. Let me tell you, working here for more than two consecutive hours could be harmful for a person’s health. I have a raging headache, low blood sugar, and I’m plain exhausted.

Clearly, working here has taken its toll on the Bea. Soon after I came in, she returned from a doctor’s appointment. She started listing off a number of health conditions like she was reading a menu, and I was about to ask her who had all these health problems when I realized they were all hers. Sheesh.

I’m thankful that she is occupied today, having just spent more than an hour helping a new professor order books. But first thing’s first. Show this professor how to use a computer, how to open an Internet browser, and how interpret copyright law. I don’t know anyone who needs that much help. Come on, now, professors.

I’m going to try to sneak out of here for a few minutes and eat something.

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